


A Brief History of Magnetic Storms

by Domina



Category: Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: Jaal x Liam just makes sense, M/M, One Shot, Rated Mature for strong erotic descriptions, Slow Burn, Specifically for The Lost Song, Spoilers, what the fuck is a canon anyway
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-05
Updated: 2017-04-05
Packaged: 2018-10-15 00:04:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10546634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Domina/pseuds/Domina
Summary: We all know what was really going on during That Scene. This is my take on what happened before certain things were...removed.Spoilers for an outcome of the quest "The Lost Song."





	

**Author's Note:**

> I wasn't going to write this. I still have Feed, which is rapidly approaching its next update. But, when you get down to the brass tacks of it, I have zero restraint. 
> 
> A huge, honking thank-you to the folks who read this, with an extra helping of ohmygodthankyoujesus to [Mirabai0821](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mirabai0821/pseuds/Mirabai0821) for fact-checking my stuff and telling me about the Lost Song quest.
> 
> References to Jaal’s…magnetism…are a direct nod to [Calyah's](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Calyah/pseuds/Calyah) glorious Jaal x Ryder fic, titled “Instruction and Exploration” ([Part I](https://billowsandbreeze.tumblr.com/post/158898560264/fic-instruction-and-exploration-jaal-x-sierra), [Part II](https://billowsandbreeze.tumblr.com/post/159004216584/fic-instruction-and-exploration-part-2). I’ve accepted her brilliant theory of [Resonance](https://billowsandbreeze.tumblr.com/post/159157752219/i-really-like-your-resonance-idea-for-the-angara) as canonical. I will fight you over it.

“Liam Kosta.”

“Yeah, Jaal Ama Darav?”

He hadn’t needed to look up to know that Jaal had appeared at the doorway; unlike most of the crew, Jaal had a certain presence, one Liam could feel from a hundred feet. Liam was good at that sort of thing. Feeling people’s energy, picking up on the vibes they put out. On Earth, they would have called him an empath. On the Tempest, they jokingly called him a sponge. There was, Liam thought, some truth to that.

So when he began feeling out Jaal’s nuances, he did so knowing that he was - probably - the only human able to do so. The more they talked during missions, the more obvious those nuances became. He wondered why, what with those arms held awkwardly in conflict with his telltale stride, Jaal arrived appearing to be expecting some sort of rejection.

“I would like to watch you work. Would you be comfortable with this?”

_Ah._

Liam raised an eyebrow. “I don’t mind,” he replied smoothly. He was not ignoring the subtle change in the air when he decided to remove his hands from his pockets and resume tinkering with his latest projects (a new chestplate, lighter than his usual). Only refused to give a name to it. Easier to prevent it from seeping too far beneath his skin.

Because once that change started sweeping in, it lingered, like smoke. Except far more interesting. He remembered when Jaal first boarded the ship, clearly expecting Ryder’s motley crew to be obstinate. He was half right. But, as each of them began to prove Jaal wrong - and they had a habit of shaking everyone’s expectations, really - he noticed that Jaal began to pay closer attention to them all. His cat’s eyes took in more than he let on, angaran openness be damned. Though Jaal freely admitted that he was a careful study, someone who wanted to learn things, which Liam liked even more than his unflinching attention to detail.

Steadily, the frequency at which he found himself chatting with Jaal increased. But easy talk proved to be clouds before rain, and soon their conversations stretched for an hour, perhaps more. Even after their talks came to an end and the two went off to do other things, Jaal remained on his mind. After one particularly good conversation - angaran philosophy, it was - Liam began wondering if he was alone in the feeling that drenched him.

So when Jaal once caught Liam staring at him in a less-than-professional way? When he returned it with a slight narrowing of those eyes, the tugging at the corner of his lips? The incline of his head? The way he shifted, so that his chest faced Liam more directly? Everything, man. It meant everything.

But he tried not to take Jaal’s movements too seriously, there in that room. The way Jaal, granted permission, walked in and made himself comfortable. The brief wave of relief was reshaped into something more balanced, intensive, as Jaal carefully drew up a chair. The legs scraped softly against the floor.

There was a question forming in Liam’s throat. He swallowed it down and went back to work.

They were like this for some time; what was it, forty-five minutes, an hour? It didn’t matter. It passed slowly for Liam, the way it passed when he daydreamed of floating in the waters at Tresco, watching Earth’s sun pass through the sky. Slow and easy, despite the ever-present knowledge that Jaal was watching. He asked questions, sure, but Jaal seemed mostly content to observe. Liam was sure he’d gotten bored when Jaal adjusted in his chair and spoke.

“Liam Kosta, do all humans hunch their brows so tightly when they’re focused? How is it that you’re seeing anything?”

He looked up. He knew there wouldn’t be sarcasm, but Jaal’s face was so open. Inquisitive, if not a touch concerned.

“Shit, you’re serious,” Liam said, running a hand through his hair. “Well. Not all of us. Some of us just, dunno…let our sense of focus appear more physically than others. We get tight.”

Jaal rumbled his understanding. “Curious. Angarans have a phrase for that. “ _Paara ash adaar_. ‘To know the way of the rock.’”

“Ah. Thanks.”

“It is not a compliment.”

His cheeks began to prickle. “Right, then,” Liam said slowly, looking back down at his armor. Easier to zero in on his tweaks than try to patch up whatever that was. He pressed against the desk. The sharp edge dug into his hip, which he let distract him from his embarrassment.

“But I do not mean to insult you, Kosta.” Jaal was still looking at him, though his expression had softened. “Do not take it as such. It was simply a statement of fact.”

“Kosta? You downgraded me to just last-name basis?” But Jaal chuckled, sliding gracefully from his seat. Water off stone. Liam felt more heat rising to his face as he watched. **  
**

“It is not a ‘downgrade.’” Jaal’s hands were large, way larger than Liam thought once he placed them on his desk. “I simply feel that our increased interactions have led to an appropriate reduction in formalities.” **  
**

Liam raised his chin, swallowed down the question again. Jaal frowned. **  
**

“Have I read this interaction improperly? I am not fully read-up on human behavior.”

“What? No. It’s…it’s fine, Jaal - I mean, Ama Darav?” Liam corrected, suddenly aware of how tall Jaal actually was. There was a quirk in Jaal’s lips as he brought himself momentarily closer, and those eyes glittered like stars as they scanned Liam’s expression.

“In your case, Jaal is fine.” He straightened, smiling as he stepped away from Liam’s desk. “I understand what the use of first names implies for your people. That slice of human culture, I am aware of.”

Liam felt the energy of the room change again as Jaal left, more smoothly than he came. There were more questions in his throat than answers that his mind could provide.

 

____

 

Jaal stood in the snow well after the confrontation with Doctor Lekaaret had ended. He seemed wistful: no longer was he standing tall, the weight of what they found heavy on his shoulders. Perhaps his gaze was fixed to the ground because he wondered if the remaining yevara would be alright, and searched beneath the ice for an answer.

“They’re pretty strong, you know.” Jaal did not move as Liam stepped up to him, as if he didn’t even hear him speak. “The yevara. No food, yet they endure. No air, yet they endure. Amazing, that. I understand why that doctor might want to find a way to use that for angaran good.”

But Jaal _had_ heard him, and Liam started from the way his eyes snapped open and burned. For a flicker of a moment, he regretted getting too close.

Jaal’s voice went tight with anger. He drew himself up to his full height, but took a step back as he shook his head. “Kosta, do you… _support_ the way Doctor Lekaaret acted on that curiosity?”

“What? _No_.”

Though he looked no less angry, Jaal waited patiently for elaboration; the protestant hand he’d raised fell slowly to his side.

“No. I don’t, Jaal.” Liam looked away, and the sigh he let out formed puffs of steam. He traced lines in the snow with one of his boots, careful not to draw one between him and Jaal. “They were just _bodies_ to her. Beings she thought she had the right to sacrifice because she didn’t see their…personhood, I guess.”  

Jaal returned to his original place. Though he did so silently, he could be heard taking deep breaths, calming breaths. Liam took that as a sign to keep going.

“Dunno, I believe that they have personhood, anyway. And it’s not like they volunteered themselves. And like you said earlier…they’re too invaluable to risk. Better to have hope that you’ll find some other way, you know? Like the yevara. Missing two obvious keys to survival, but surviving anyway.”

Jaal’s stare was hard, yet not hostile. He was stone-faced, and the anger that had heated his features were cooled by relief and…vulnerability? Remembrance? For the first time, Liam found an expression that he couldn’t read in full.

“Look. I left home knowing that I would never see it again. Us humans on Tempest were lucky we got to save as much as we did. If we hadn’t? And back in the Milky Way, somebody found something that could help future generations remember how far we’d come? I would protect it, too.”

Jaal’s face cooled, then softened.

“By any means necessary,” Liam finished, and fell quiet. Leaving Jaal to fill in the spaces with things that did not require saying to be understood.

They stood there for a moment: Jaal staring at Liam, Liam looking anywhere but. Looking from the corner of his eye to face that - vulnerability _again_ \- made him feel more open. Then he heard Ryder call out to them before turning back. The crunch of her boots brought his thoughts back home. To his new one.

“C’mon, man.” He gestured towards Ryder. “Let’s go.”

Jaal was at his side within two long strides. They had walked the entire way in silence; only when they’d reached the Nomad did Jaal respond to anything Liam had said. He wasn’t mad, that much Liam could tell. Rather, he seemed to be mulling over his words, letting them settle. When he did turn back to Liam, it was with something deeper than appreciation.

“You meant that,” Jaal said finally, with an awe that seemed to caress Liam’s ears. “You were not simply spouting words of comfort for my benefit.”

“I wasn’t, no.”

“Thank you.” Jaal seemed to be appraising Liam in a new light before nodding solemnly, then climbing into the Nomad. As he brushed against Liam’s shoulder, a ripple of something passed through him. Liam would spend the entire ride wondering what it was. Wondering if it would happen again.

When he finally fell asleep later, he dreamed that they were out on a frozen sea, on Voeld. Jaal was staring at the snow; Liam, at Jaal’s face, strangely highlighted by the sunless, cloudless sky. A line - the kind of line Liam had tried to avoid earlier - had been drawn between them. Jaal slid one foot forward and wiped it away with the sole of his boot, smiling.

“Better,” he rumbled. In three steps he was before Liam and, with a wandering hand snaking around Liam’s waist, leaned in. The kiss they shared sent an unceasing current through Liam’s spine: slow, sure, as if time were but fallen snow. Thick as ice, unmoving.

“ _Much_ better,” Liam agreed between kisses. He pressed against Jaal and found that he was already being brought closer by those hands, to his audible pleasure. His fingers drew languid lines against the back of Jaal’s head. The intentful squeeze of his arse encouraged Liam to draw more, and soon his hands made maps of skin that felt magnetic to the touch.

The yevara sang, their ancient voices floating up from below.

_____

 

“Tell me about human bodies,” Jaal said to him one day.

They’d been at this - this thing - for a while. This thing where Jaal, in between excursions, would visit Liam while he worked on his various projects. Sometimes, they would sit in silence; other times, they would fill the time with chat that could be described as anything but idle. That, angarans seemed to dispose with. They talked outside of those moments, too, but the feeling had grown a little more intimate when they were alone.

Especially during the periods of silence. They could just…be. Time would pass, but was never idle.

On that day, Jaal had stopped by to take another look at human armor. He found Liam with pieces on his desk, testing them briefly, and asked to examine them himself. They chatted as Jaal sat opposite him, peppering him with inquiries while Liam answered through the small knot that formed in his throat. But it was normal for Jaal’s questions (and commentary) to be sharp, insightful, and earnest, no matter the topic. It was something that Liam found refreshing. And attractive, though he refused to say this aloud.

There wasn’t a need to do so, besides.

The heat that rose to his face was, at this point, familiar. “What do you want to know?” Liam asked, shifting weight from one leg to the other. Jaal’s bare hands - he’d started removing his gloves at the start of his visits -  flexed casually as he thought.

“I was not thinking of anything in particular,” Jaal admitted. He rolled his shoulders casually. “I have seen you and the other humans in armor - inefficient as much of it seems-”

“Hey!”

“Though I am curious about what lies underneath,” Jaal said. His voice dropped lower, and Liam felt something akin to static as he registered it. Once he did, he realized that he’d felt it before.

In that dream. The first one.

Liam focused on the grain of the metal desk, splayed his hands out on its cool surface as he shifted. He wasn’t going to look Jaal straight in the eyes while he spoke, not while he gave voice to the kind of thoughts that flowed through his mind during their silences. Without solid confirmation, what he was doing was a risk. A risk that came with awkwardness at best if it fell flat. And yet. He swallowed hard as he took it, and said:

“I could just…you know…take off my shirt.” He cleared his throat. ”If you’re that curious.”

Worth it, based on the feeling that rushed over his skin. Worth it, entirely worth it, for the look Jaal gave him in reply.

“I would like that, yes.” Jaal smiled. He ran a flattened palm over one of his thighs, back towards his torso. It did not escape Liam’s notice that his eyes had gotten a shade darker as he watched him, unblinkingly.

Liam reached back, heartbeat picking up as he latched his fingers onto his collar and tugged. His shirt came off easily. The air that had first ghosted cold against his skin quickly turned warm. When the last bit of shirt stopped obscuring his eyes, he found that Jaal was standing, attention rapt.

“You are…” Jaal trailed off, stepping carefully around the desk, “very well-formed. Muscular definition is similar to ours. It is a commonality that I appreciate.”

“Mm.” He resisted the urge to flex as he crossed his arms. Jaal had gotten closer, and the tightrope Liam had felt before had appeared in his abdomen. It twisted as Jaal took in the sight of him. His gaze left Liam prickling with want as it slowly moved over his face, his neck, his shoulders; his arms, his abs, missing nothing.

It had been a while since anyone had looked at him like that. The kind of gaze that could hold you captive, much to your pleasure. The kind of look that made you want to hold still.

“I’m feeling a little exposed,” he said. Jaal chuckled, thunder-like, shoulders shrugging with his amusement.

“The reason behind that seems obvious.”

“I meant that this…erm, cross-species examination, should be balanced. Fairly curious about angaran similarities, myself.”

“I know.”

_Shit._

Jaal’s laugh was deep as he removed pieces of his armor, irreverent of the flash of horror that he must have sensed. “I have yet to understand the reasons why humans are so guarded about their emotions.” He paused for a moment, lips pursing thoughtfully. “Perhaps it is because your societies involve more ruthlessness. More intrigue.”

Liam knew what Jaal had meant, though he still reflexively sought to defend himself. “We’re not all shrewd and devious, you know. Some of us are more…earnest. Open. And-”

The rest of the words fell away. Sometimes that happened to you when faced with something worth silence. Jaal was suddenly nude before him, unabashed as he laid his armor on the desk with a thud. As bare as the smirk on his face.

“I know.”

There were similarities. Liam had traced the lines in a man’s broad shoulders before, the kinds that appeared on Jaal’s. He had always found veiny forearms attractive in their own way. Though the thought obviously had no basis in fact, he felt it implied that the owner was good with their hands. Witnessing Jaal’s combat style did little to disprove his conclusion.

Nor did it help the other, less proper conclusions that Liam had reached…or dreamt of. He recalled with dread how easily Jaal could read him as he reluctantly dragged his eyes upward. He tried to fight the desire to find out what those hands would feel like if placed on him, if he allowed them to roam as freely as Jaal’s gaze. Miserably. Jaal was handsome, attractive in every way, and the static between them threatened to shock.

“You didn’t have to go completely nude,” Liam mumbled.

“I didn’t _have_ to do anything. But it is clear that our curiosity is mutual.” Jaal took a step closer. “I just wanted to be sure that you knew how mutual it is.”

Then Liam felt the pull, too alive to leave room for doubt, and it coursed through him like lightning through a weather-vane.

He let his eyes drift back downward, towards Jaal’s torso. A ribcage that he found familiar, bone formations that were not; abs that were both familiar and deeply admired. His narrow hips which led to gloriously thick thighs. “I reckon you’re not talking about human-angaran species differences,” he said carefully, arousal pooling quickly as he took in the lines, those glorious fucking lines that sloped towards Jaal’s cock which was-

“I am not.” 

 Liam heard what was in that voice. It was thick, in ways that Jaal was thick, heavy. He didn’t need to look up and find Jaal unconsciously licking his lips to know precisely what it was.

There was no point in hiding the hardness that made itself obvious through his trousers. None. Not when Jaal was standing there, naked, growing harder the longer they stood there. And they stood there for a good, long while: Jaal appearing to memorize every detail of Liam’s body, Liam tracing his desire on every line, every curve, every bulge. And when their eyes did meet up again, there was _that feeling_ , the one that seized every part of him. 

Liam wanted to reach out, to let his hands add depth to what he saw. Texture to what he’d seen in Jaal, what he’d felt. He wondered, as he moved closer, what Jaal’s skin would feel like beneath his fingers.

And Jaal? He put one hand on the desk, shifting his weight onto it, watching Liam with hooded eyes as he leaned forward. Leaning forward a little bit more as Liam raised a cautious hand, until- 

“Wait.” Jaal cocked his head, closing his eyes. He’d grasped Liam by the wrist, a move that made Liam’s breath go shallow. That bloody _pull_ went straight to his cock, and he clenched his teeth for it. “It would be wise to dress,” Jaal continued. “I sense that we have a visitor. But I would like to resume this exchange…later.” 

To Liam’s surprise, Jaal allowed him to set the tone of their explanation to Ryder. Far be it from angarans to lie, it seemed, though perhaps Jaal saw nuance in not being completely forthcoming in this case. Not that Ryder didn’t start piecing things together as she walked in - few things escaped that woman, bless and damn her - but some things just didn’t need to be named straightaway. Jaal swiftly made his exit, stride arousingly confident as the door swished open before him. Not caring that he’d left _all_ of his armor behind. 

“Ryder.” He stopped just before the entrance and turned his head slightly over his shoulder. Ryder nodded quickly, eyes trained on his face. 

“Kosta.”

It was the way that he said it. Knowing, full of promises it made him hard to imagine fulfilled. Onion-like in its layers, each one filling him with possibilities the further he went. That voice change. Jaal’s lithe body. The increasing voltage as he edged closer, the visible arousal, that _tongue_. He’d no idea what their next exchange would look like but, bloody hell, it would be difficult to get that image out of his head.

Liam’s wrist tingled for hours.

He didn’t mind.

 


End file.
